Actually, It Doesn't (Felicity & Oliver Arrow Fan Fiction)
by Westernlaura
Summary: Events take place after Season 3 Mid-Season Finale, approximately six months after Oliver is brought back from his encounter with Ra's Al Ghul (alive). Oliver and Felicity are now trapped on Lian Yu after a routine mission goes haywire. Felicity hasn't seen Oliver in two weeks. Will she ever see him again? What will it mean for her and for them if she can save them both?
1. Chapter 1

Actually It Doesn't

-CW's Arrow- Olicity FF by WesternLaura

*Events take place after Season 3 Mid-Season Finale*

(Fictional characters borrowed from DC Comics

All rights to their respective owners)

Chapter One

Felicity's POV

Oliver Queen is alive. How many times did I see that news clip? Hear that newscaster's rush of excitement fall off to staccato fact. Oliver Queen. Is. Alive. So what? I mean, it was a cool story and everything, but big deal. He meant nothing to me then, almost four years ago. Just a name, a myth even. Someone to ogle or laugh at, depending on the latest antics, through the unreality of reality TV.

Now, he isn't nothing. He is everything. Ok, maybe not everything. I'm feminist enough not to cave that far. But he is definitely 80 to 85% of why I get up in the morning. I would give up everything except him to hear a new version of that original proclamation. No more computer, no more tech devices of any kind. I'd give up my daily dose of my favorite coffee to hear that Oliver was alive, just one more time.

Now, many of you may think that I'd be used to this by now. Oliver was dead at least 8 times since I've known him. Nine, if you count when I almost killed him when we were training. But I didn't, so we will say eight times. When Ra's Al Ghul stabbed him with a sword (seriously, with a sword) and shoved him off a cliff, I thought he was done. That we were done. But we weren't done and he came back. He always comes back. To me, I mean.

This time felt final. I should have never let him come back to this place. This island. Although, I don't know if we should call it a true island. When I hear the word island, I think the sun, beach, and drinks. Your typical margaritaville situation. This place was hell, to him and now to me. It is beyond cold here. The sharp rocks, freezing ocean, and lack of wifi would normally be enough to cross Lian Yu off my vacation destination shortlist. Then Oliver started marooning people in the prison here and the island was added to my no-go list. Actually, it is the only place on my no-go list.

Oliver is the love of my life. I know I said before that I'm a feminist and I'm totally fine with all that implies. Equal rights, independence for women, all of that. But right now, I don't know how I can make it without him. I can't even got off this island by myself. Not that I would anyway without him. Leave him here? No way.

When he told me of his plan to come here, I understood. I could say something expected like that I thought he was crazy, but I didn't. Made sense to me. He needed to figure out how these truly crazy people escaped from what was supposed to be an inescapable prison. Oliver did cross into crazytown when he suggested I go with him. I remember that conversation very clearly.

"Felicity, I need you to go with me," Oliver said. Just matter of fact like that.

"Uh, no," I replied. "I make it a habit not to visit felons". At that, Oliver raised his eyebrows in that way he does, like he's questioning whether I remember his after work job isn't entirely legal.

"Besides you, I mean," I clarified. "Not that I think of you like a felon. I don't. Just a criminal. But a good one. Not a good criminal, that implies that you are good at being a criminal. Which you are." I sighed, heavily, and tried to regroup. "What I mean to say, is that you are a good-hearted law breaker." There, that was better. I thought that maybe he was trying to trip me up, just to hear me babble.

"What's wrong? You've been to Lian Yu before." Oliver reasoned.

"True, very true," I conceded, "but it wasn't the dead of winter there. And the crazy people were behind a very safe number of bars."

"Felicity, you and Digg spent three years telling me that I needed to ask for help. That I needed to rely on my team. Now I'm telling you that I need you and you don't want to go because its cold?" he is half-smiling, but there is something behind his eyes, just for a second. Disappointment, maybe?

"What he means, Felicity, is that you need to man-up," Digg said from across the room. I didn't even hear him come into the foundry. Typical. "Or maybe he just wants to be alone with you".

"Digg!" I cried. "What?" I peeked at Oliver, that look again. Really, Digg just likes to stir up stuff, see what Oliver does. Oliver didn't say anything.

"As a woman, I should be offended by that statement, or both of those," I said, "Or maybe not. Point taken though". I took a deep breath. It was Oliver's eyes, not the manning-up comment, that put us in this mess. "I'll go."

That little exchange was 37 days ago. 37 days since we landed on this island. Crap. The last time I saw Oliver was 13 days ago. Double-crap. In addition to my intense caffeine withdrawal headache, I had a pit in my stomach.

A pit that was growing into a painful warning sign that Oliver wasn't going to be able to pull off a miracle rescue this time.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**Oliver's POV**

Two weeks. It's been two weeks since I told Felicity I would "be right back". Who says that anymore? We've all seen enough horror movies to know that you never say "I'll be right back." Damn it.

This island makes a man forget things from his normal life. Movies, ice cream, cell phones. I've only been on this island for five weeks and already those delicious conveniences feel more like a nugget of a dream I can't quite hang on to after waking. They rattle around the back of brain, ready to be discovered in a moment of longing.

These last two weeks though, it is isn't modern conveniences I'm longing, it is knowledge. I need to know where Felicity is and if she is alive. _Please, God, let her be alive._ She is smart, resourceful. She is better than me, better than Digg. I squint up through the cigar-shaped vent at the top of my steel cell. I half-expect to see Felicity swing through the trees on a vine and left me out of my hole.

The thought cheers me a little. She is that good. Not sure about the upper body strength though. The small smile cracks my already scarred lips and I drop my gaze to the dirt floor.

There has to be some way out of this mess. I'm the freakin' _Arrow _for God's sake. If I could just communicate with Felicity, I know we can get out of this. I rely on her, too much for my liking on most days. Not just rely on, but need her. I need her in my ear when I'm on the street, need her voice, her sanity. Mostly, I need her to be alive.

Of course, if she were in my ear right now, she would say she told me so. Very matter-of-factly. She didn't want to come on this trip. Well, she must have wanted to come here at least a little. I know from almost four years of working together that she is as immovable as this island when she is dead set against something.

Although, I argued with myself, she and I both knew that she came to the island for me. I knew that if I asked her, if she realized even a fraction of how much I wanted to spend time with her alone, that she would come with me. I knew it was dangerous. I was equal parts confident in my ability to keep her safe and selfish enough to talk her into it. Wow, confidence and greed, I must look like a great catch. No wonder Felicity didn't want to date me.

Even as I thought it, I knew that wasn't strictly true. After so many starts and stops, so many almosts but didn'ts, how could she trust me? How could she trust my ability to commit? I told her so many times that I couldn't be in a relationship, why should I be surprised that she eventually believed me? Great, now I could add self-pitying to my list of star qualities.

_Stop daydreaming and get the hell out of this hole, Oliver. _My subconscious could always be counted on to be kind of a jerk. I scooted across the floor to lean against the wall and sat cross-legged. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing.

For the past two weeks, I explored every nook, every speck of dirt in my steel cage. I traced the lines of the walls in my mind, reviewing the dark corners to form a clear map. I always started my search for a way out in this way. It helped to refresh my mind, prepare me mentally for what would come next.

I moved to a crawling position and began to explore the cell once more. The same cold metal greeted me on all sides. The same dirt floor packed against my hands. No surprises there. As all the times before, I could feel the seam from the trap door that dropped me into this dungeon, but no mechanism to free me. The only light was still just the thin stream from the peek hole. Check, check, check.

When I reached the far wall all of 8 feet from only light, I stopped to take inventory of my remaining supplies. I was down to half of a 20 ounce water bottle and two protein bars. For the first few days after I fell into blackness, I preserved as much of the water and food as I could. I didn't want to be on the receiving end of Felicity's rant when she discovered I'd eaten her chocolate bars. She really loved those things. I thought they tasted like protein-filled chalk with a raw cocoa powder kick, but she could inhale them faster than Digg and I put together.

At the end of the third day, my thirst and hunger were overwhelming, nearly as bad as my first time on this island. I still kept my consumption to a minimum, but right about now, I'd happily let Felicity punch me in the face if it meant that I was out of this hole and she was okay.

I took a swig from the water bottle and closed it carefully, setting it aside. I leaned my head against the wall, shivering in dark. I prayed, more than I have in a long time, to a God that I wasn't sure I believed in. I prayed that Felicity was out there and that she was on a mission to get us the hell out of here.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**Felicity's POV**

I filled the third plastic bottle, using the water from the thin stream, and tucked it into my shoulder bag. I stood up from my crouching position and stretched, searching as always for any sign of Oliver. The island wasn't that big and I searched methodically, one grid at a time. On the plus side, at least I wasn't wearing heels. Vanity hadn't led me that far astray.

It was supposed to be a quick trip, just a couple of days he said. Ha! When we left Central City over five weeks ago, Oliver barely allowed me enough time to throw together a duffel bag. I always kept an emergency change of clothes for several occasions back in the Arrow cave. Ha! Arrow Cave. Ever since Kaitlin and Cisco called Oliver's hideout the "Arrow Cave", I couldn't get it out of my head.

Oliver hated it when I let "Arrow Cave" slip in conversation, but he wasn't here. I think it was mostly my quiet way to bug him a little anyway. I mean, I can keep the biggest secrets in the world. Things don't just "slip". Unless you get a few margaritas in me, then maybe I blurt out the little things. Wow, even in my head I babble.

When Oliver landed the rented seaplane on the island's coast 37 days ago, I was distracted. Watching him maneuver the small aircraft to a smooth stop fascinated me. It was a relief to spend time alone with Oliver, no Arrow in site. Ok, there were arrows, of course. And the Arrow outfit was never far away, packed in one of the several bags of equipment loaded into the back seat of the plane. In the cockpit though, it was just us. Us in normal clothes, going about our almost normal business.

Usually, when I'm in a small space with the man I dream to see naked, I fill potential silence with a lot of talking. If I do manage to keep my mouth shut for any length of time, the silence normally turns thick and awkward. All of that is me, of course. Oliver is always steady. The only sign he ever gives of being uncomfortable in my presence is if we talk about female issues. I mean, not female _issues_ (that would be weird), but emotions, my emotions to be exact. Or his lack of emotions. He is equally uncomfortable with both topics.

Not this time though. For probably the first time, I felt truly relaxed in Oliver's presence. The flight to Lian Yu should have felt long, cold, and a little scary. At the very least, it should have been boring after I had my fill of staring at horizon as we flew over the ocean. Only, it wasn't any of those things. The trip was _nice._ When you've had as much crazy in your life as Oliver and I've had in ours, just _nice_ is amazing. The time we spent in the cockpit was quiet and filled with maybe, hopefully, just a smidge of sexual tension. Well, I smidge maybe on his part. More than a smidge on my side.

"Cold?" Oliver asked in a low voice, barely audible through the headset.

"Not to bad," I replied, content in my MIT sweatshirt and the blanket I'd grabbed from the emergency kit in the back. I'd kicked my hiking boots to the floor and tucked my feet under me, but the heat coming from the vents only went so far.

I was tempted to say something daring like "how about you warm me up?", but that was the thing with me. I was always tempted to do something when it came to Oliver, but I rarely actually did it. After our brief attempt at romance in the past, I was too nervous (alright, downright chicken) to try it again. Maybe I would change that on this trip. The way I felt when I was with him in that cockpit was something to fight for and win.

As the sharp peaks of the island came into view, I admired how competently Oliver handled the aircraft. Maybe if I'd spent more time watching the approaching shoreline instead of mind-licking Oliver's capable hands, I would be back home right now in my pj's. I would not be hiking my way in the freaking frozen of a hellhole praying that Oliver and I would find each other.

Just after landing, before I even worked out of my zen slash drooling state of being, an explosion busted the glass from seaplane windows. Four years on the Arrow team had me diving for cover under the cockpit floor, but I'm sure my reflexes were a little slower on the uptake then if I'd been in my usual state of nervousness. Maybe that is why Oliver never really relaxed. He always felt like a coiled snake ready to strike. _Or a bedspring ready to be jumped on_, I thought as he flew into action. I flinched at my really inopportune answer to the usual clichéd thoughts.

Oliver's body covered mine for the first few seconds after the blast. I wasn't surprised that his first thought was to protect me. He was just like that with people he cared about. _Well, he is like that with strangers too,_ I reminded myself.

Before my ears could stop ringing, he grabbed me around my waist and tossed me between the seats to the back of the plane. As another boom shook the plane, Oliver dove over the seats and landed on me again. _A girl could get used to this._ My brain really does need rewiring if near death experiences drive me to a lust-filled version of my normal self.

"Felicity, are you ok?"

"If I had a dollar every time you had to ask me that, Oliver," I started to say.

"You'd have more money than me," he finished.

"Damn straight," I replied, "and I'd take us to vacation on a real island. We would lay on a beach and have drinks with little umbrellas in the them. I would not take you to a place where someone or something is already trying to kill us." The voice trailed off to a whisper as the engine died. If it is was a _someone_ trying to kill us, they didn't need to know that my last words were complaining about the venue. Guys hate that.

I hate to be sexist, but if someone was trying to kill us, my money was on some rough manly types. They would have no problem taking me out if they thought I was too mouthy. Although, that Isabel Rochev was a piece of work now that I thought about it. And Cupid. And the Huntress. So maybe it was a bunch of women out there trying to kill us. A jealous ex-girlfriend?

Another explosion hit so close to us that the plane flipped to one side. We tossed around inside like the time my Raggedy-Ann doll accidentally wound up in the washing machine at the laundromat. I imagined that my face looked just like Ann's when she streaked past the front loading window. A picture of surprise, betrayal, and pain with a splash of weird humor thrown in like "see, it doesn't really bother me".

Oliver held my head as we rolled, but let go of me as soon as the plane stopped moving. The wing was crushed on one side, but still was together enough to hold the plane somewhat upright. Oliver crawled out through the opening and pulled me out behind him. He crouched low between the wing and the plane, keeping me tucked to his side. Another blast hit the sand on the other side of the plane, knocking us to the ground.

"Don't move unless you have to," Oliver told me quietly through the ringing in my ears.

"Fine by me," I said, scooting closer to the steel sides of the aircraft.

I watched as Oliver crawled quickly into the plane and started shoving bags through the opening. I did my part by dragging the bags away from the window, keeping it clear for Oliver to escape. The last thing that Oliver tossed to the ground was my pair of boots. Honestly, he really is thoughtful, but I just wanted to get out of there, barefoot or not.

I expected another bomb to wipe us out, but it remained quiet as we ran away from the plane and headed inland. Oliver carried an enormous duffel over each shoulder, but I only carried my boots, one in each hand. Man, I really am a slacker sometimes. We'd landed in a small cove, but the sand quickly gave way to sharp rocks. The cold surface numbed my feet as I ran next to Oliver, tripping on unforgiving edges. I sliced my skin twice and the blood left a faint trail behind us. I'm a glass half-full kind of girl, so I decided to be grateful that my feet were so cold that I didn't feel the pain from gaping wounds.

We ducked behind a small outcrop of extra wide boulders.

"Put your boots on, Felicity".

It wasn't Oliver that was with me now. I knew that voice. It was the command of the Arrow. There was no point in mentioning that we didn't have time to stop or that I wasn't hurt that bad. Definitely there was no suggesting that he leave me behind. I just leaned against the wall for balance and put my boots on as fast as possible, not bothering with the laces.

As soon as I stood up, we started running through a small path I'd previously not noticed. Instead of heading up and over the rocks, we seemed to be cutting through them. I'd studied every image of this place, both on a paper map and in digital 3D rendering, and this path was definitely not on it. Where the hell we were going?

I ran next to Oliver and a final explosion sounded from the direction of the beach. With it came the sound of what could only be the plane blasting into pieces, taking out our way home with it. The path veered into a tight cave and I felt a little better not being out in the open with the psycho murderers, or murderer ex-girlfriends.

"Felicity," Oliver began.

"Don't! Do not ask me if I'm okay. I'm fine. What the hell was that, Oliver?"

"I don't know."

"Where are we?" I asked

"I had this path cleared a few months ago. Just in case."

"Just in case what? In case you dragged me here and a crazy ex-girlfriend tried to take us out? In case we needed a place to hide when I plane blew up? In case of what, Oliver?" I might have been a little freaked out.

"A crazy ex-girlfriend?" Oliver's lip twitched a little at the corner. "Hardly."

"I better not see you laughing at me."

"You're laughing," he stated.

"No, I'm not. I'm smiling, but I'm doing it under duress." I might have been smiling. Smiling and freaking out.

"Okay. It isn't an ex-girlfriend, crazy or otherwise. My guess is that Slade decided to leave a few presents on the island before he left. He likely realized that either someone from A.R.G.U.S or I would come looking. I should have realized."

"So, there isn't someone out there? It is just, what, a booby-trap? That seemed really personal to be just a love it and leave it sort of thing".

"Yes, it did. I guess we'll find out. Come on, I've got something to show you," Olive said as he turned and walked deeper into the cave.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

**Oliver's POV**

I woke up slightly disoriented, leaning against the rounded corner of the cave I was buried in. I only get disoriented under three circumstances. One is when some villain has poisoned me with some then unknown toxin. The second scenario is anytime Felicity touches me, something I've never experienced with one else, even Laurel. Since neither of those things were a current possibility, I knew I was looking at the third situation. I was dehydrated and likely starving.

Water supply was running low, even with slight refills trickling in from small peephole. Protein bars were running low. The smell in this dungeon was becoming unbearable, even though I buried everything unpleasant. So far, I'd only been able to dig a hole about a foot deep before hitting solid steel. Whoever made this pit dropped a steel cube in the ground and threw a little dirt on the bottom for what, comfort? How considerate.

I didn't think this was an A.R.G.U.S. hole. Amanda Waller had more class than this pit. Plus, if this were Amanda's brainchild, they would know I was down here and I'd be out of here by now. I may have fallen from her good graces, assuming she ever had such a thing, but she wouldn't just leave me here.

I know this trap wasn't here on my last visit, so someone built it in the last few months. For what purpose? For who? Who needed a prison on this island besides me and besides A.R.G.U.S? I turned the question over in mind, hoping the answer would appear and lead me to a way out.

If Felicity were here, her and I would figure it out. I knew it. She was able to connect the dots in ways I never could. We were such a great team. I wanted to be more than her teammate. More than her hero. I never had to wonder if she saw the real me. She did absolutely. I could be myself with her. The problem was, is, that I didn't want to be myself. I wanted to be better than myself.

As I did about every half hour or so, I put my mouth to the peephole and yelled Felicity's name a few times. Sometimes I changed it a little, yelling things like "In here!" or "I'm trapped down here!". On the first day, I even sang little tunes, confident that Felicity was close by and would find my terrible singing funny under the circumstances. Now, I yelled as loud as I could for a few minutes and hoped like hell she could hear me. If I could just talk to her, we could figure a way out.

Of course, if I could talk to her, I wouldn't be happy with just talking. I'd want to touch her too. Hug her, breathe her in and know that we saved each other one more time. I swore after our failed attempt at dating, I wouldn't put her in the position to risk her heart again. Keeping my distance was what I was good at. I wasn't good at relationships. I was better at subtle innuendos and occasionally reminding her that I loved her. Actually, now that lay it out like that, it doesn't sound all that great for her either.

Augh, why could it just not be simple? After I told her I loved her so long ago, why couldn't we just go out on a date? Probably, we didn't go that way the last time because by the time I came back from my near death with Ra's Al Ghul, she was already dating Ray. Of course, that didn't last very long. I both liked and hated that my return was the likely culprit in that break-up.

I wanted to give her time to recover, let her heal from her relationship. I wanted her to realize that she couldn't be as happy with anyone as she could be with me. She and I were going to work and I was going to make sure of it. Like Joe Fox in You've Got Mail, I was in the middle of a project that needed "tweaking". Great, Felicity had me thinking about romantic comedies, I really have changed. Maybe that is all I needed to convince her I was ready.

The trip to the island was part of the "win over Felicity" project. I wanted to get her alone and tell her how I felt, again. I wanted to not only tell her why this time would be different, but I wanted to show her. Lian Yu wasn't the ideal location. I knew that. I knew it, but took her anyway. I'd spent weeks planning the perfect getaway to a semi-private tropical island off the coast of Florida, the exact opposite of Lian Yu. I could have taken her to anywhere, but I wanted to show her that I could do normal. Just a trip between two people to a local beach.

Then, as usual, the plans changed. The escape from Lian Yu shocked all of us. Amanda Waller's local team was wiped out and all of the criminals I'd spent years jailing were now sited all over the world. We needed to find out how they escaped. Digg volunteered to investigate, but he didn't know the island as well as I did. The last-minute travel to Lian Yu completely overlapped the Florida trip. I could have postponed the trip with Felicity. She didn't even know about it yet. I didn't want to postpone, a horrible decision in hindsight. My logic was that there would always be something going on Arrow-related. I didn't want to wait any longer to tell Felicity that I needed to be with her. So Florida was cancelled and I used my "but you always say I need a team" excuse to get her to come along.

The flight over here was perfect. Those hours gave me hope in a way all the action and tension never could. We were together, just the two of us. Simple. When I approached Lian Yu, I was only focusing on what I wanted to say to Felicity. I wasn't thinking about potential enemies still on the island. The prisoners escaped and Amanda's people were dead. She'd already confirmed to me before I left that she wasn't planning to use this site again. Too risky. The only reason I wanted to scout the island was to find clues about the person who helped the prisoners escape. There had to be someone else involved who I'd figured had long since left the island.

I wasn't thinking about any of that when we started our descent to the cove. I was thinking of Felicity sitting a few inches from my hand. I could barely focus on piloting the damn plane. My original plan to lay out a romantic setting in a cave and tell her how I still loved her was quickly falling to the wayside. Instead, it was something along the lines of land the plane, lean over, grab her face in my hands, kiss her, hope she didn't slap me. Then someone or something attacked the plane.

In my dirt and cold steel dungeon, that feeling of needing to touch her, kiss her, explore her kept me going in a way that a general feeling of hope and faith could not. I put my face to the peephole and yelled as loud as my weakening body would allow.


End file.
